


Dark Side of the Moon

by sailaway



Series: My Yautja Boyfriend [7]
Category: Alien vs Predator (2004), Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors, Predators (2010), The Predator (2018)
Genre: F/M, Interspecies, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Yautja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 11:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16283540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailaway/pseuds/sailaway
Summary: An ordinary hunting trip. An unremarkable desert moon. An unexpected plant with a unique side effect...





	Dark Side of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Step right up, folks, and get your classic sex pollen. If you haven't read anything in this series before, it helps, but it's not strictly necessary. Luar and Dek'ka kindly loaned to me by Chelsy/BeastSoul.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Please let me come.”

“You told me yourself you never wished be a hunter, Kate.”

“I don't want to hunt, I just want to get out of this tin can. This ship,” she clarified, before he could ask about the figure of speech.

It had been weeks since she'd been on-planet anywhere. While the clanship was large and had much to occupy, when Solar told her he would be leaving on a hunting trip – a particular prey species was coming out of hibernation and beginning their annual mass migration – she had to cling to her dignity not to beg him to let her come along.

“I can stay in the – the fort? Lodge? What did you call it? You know I know how to not get in the way.”

“ _Sitama._ And yes, I know. But it would not feel safe or right to leave you alone there for the day or so I will be with the hunting party.”

From the couch Kate propped her elbows on the room divider and put her chin in her hands, observing Solar at his desk. The lift of her brows encouraged further clarification.

“I am known here on the clanship,” he explained. “From the start most have viewed you as some kind of pet or personal servant, and thus the respect I'm afforded is to some degree transferred to you. And those who have deduced the truth have wisely elected to keep their opinions to themselves.”

In response to her little scowl of displeasure at the words, Solar rose, reaching over the divider and smoothed her wrinkling brow with one fingertip. She didn't care for being thought of in that way, and she knew he agreed with her sentiment, but neither could deny it did grant her a measure of protection.

“Though the moon is clan territory, there will be yautja there from other ships, or from Yautja Prime. I cannot predict how you will be treated. Short of hanging a sign around your neck with my name and threats of bodily harm to anyone who interferes with you...”

He took in her hopeful face as he thought in silence. Unable to resist a last entreaty, Kate added, “You're not the only one who likes fresh air, you know.”

The beads by his face clicked as he tipped his head to one side and sighed. “There is no subtlety to your beseeching, and yet still I cannot make myself immune to it.”

“Thank you.” She side-stepped the counter and wrapped her arms around his middle, tilting her head back and resting her chin on his chest. “I'll be careful. We both will.”

But with some reluctance he disentangled himself, holding her at arm's length. “If you come with me you must not carry my scent in the way that you do. Those with an acute sense of smell will detect something out of the ordinary, and I would prefer not to risk attracting attention.”

She pondered, linking her hands behind her back. The fine details of yautja scent capabilities still eluded her so she didn't question him. “Do I need to leave? Can I still sleep here?”

“Yes. But... only sleep.”

“ _Only_ sleep.”

Solar's nod was firm. “On our respective sides of the bed.”

Her mouth twisted as she tried to hide her amusement. “If you're sure.”

“My self control is strong enough for the both of us,” he informed her regally.

“If you say so.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sky was gold. Why had Kate assumed it would be blue?

With no seats save for the one in the cockpit, the ship could fit several dozen standing warriors, with a long handlebar on the ceiling like in a subway car. Now it only held five other than herself – three yautja she didn't know, Solar acting as pilot, and his younger cousin beside her. Despite T'kicta's boyish energy he still towered over her, as all of them did, cocking his head down with one hand draped over the ceiling bar.

“Do you not hunt because you think you are scrawny?” Even in the ship's dim interior lighting his eyes were glow-stick green. “You are not so bad. You could hunt if you wanted to.”

“Thank you, so much.” He either didn't pick up on her sarcasm or, more likely, elected to treat it as banter, and let out a short trill of affirmation.

“I've never seen a gold sky before,” she remarked, leaning one hip on the back of the pilot's chair.

Solar made a distracted sound of assent. “Yautja Prime's is this color, also.”

If earth's skies were blue, and yautja skies were gold, did that mean Solar had the yautja equivalent of blue eyes?

She asked him. For a moment she thought he was too absorbed in piloting the craft to answer, fingers gliding over the instrument panels as they approached their destination, but then he replied without looking at her, “Once an amorous female did compare my eye coloring to the throat of a hollow-fanged kalmut.”

“ _What_ is a hollow-fanged kalmut – ”

But Kate was interrupted by a patch of turbulence, and as the journey had been smooth until now, she wasn't holding onto anything. She lurched backwards and flailed to brace her landing, already cringing in anticipation of embarrassing herself, but instead she was caught against a lithe but solid form.

“Oh – I'm sorry,” she said, spinning in T'kicta's arms. He released her without fuss, but grinned, showing sharp white fangs.

“I'm not.”

She'd learned he was an incurable flirt, so she wasn't being singled out – he took a spray-and-pray approach to seduction, energetic but harmless – but she sighed, exaggerating it to be sure he noticed. He laughed.

The moon's rolling landscape was a study in shades of beige, dotted with massive sun-bleached boulders and sparse, gangly trees clustered in patches as if around meager water sources. Ahead, fitted up at the base of a low mesa, was a flat gray building, its hard-angled V shape distinct against the planet's natural contours and muted colors. Between the two outward wings of the _sitama_ was a diamond-shaped landing platform with a handful of other ships on it, varied in model and markings and condition. As soon as the ship touched the dusty surface Solar powered down the engines and opened the entry hatch on the side to let the other eager hunters out. Though the climate system aboard was kept at a temperature Kate considered quite warm, as the hatch door slid up the dry heat all but poured in as if from an opened oven door.

The other three yautja exited down the ramp and T'kicta followed, springing lightly to the platform and inhaling the dry air with thoughtful gusto before making a beeline not for the lodge, like the others, but out across the scrubby savannah.

“Someone was raring to go,” she commented to Solar, watching his cousin's heat-smudged silhouette grow smaller.

Solar glanced up. “T'kicta is not hunting now,” he corrected, switching off the flight systems and rising from the pilot's seat. “He is scouting. He will return in a while, and when he does, the hunt will begin.”

In anticipation of the beating sun Kate had gotten ahold of some thin fabric with which to fashion herself a wide, oversized scarf. She draped it loosely over her head now, tugging it forward over her eyes a little before swathing the ends around her shoulders.

“Do you think I could pass for a juvenile from the back?” she put forth to Solar, rotating. Obviously she wouldn't hold up to any scrutiny, but perhaps next time they were on a populated planet she could blend in better in a crowd if her hair and face weren't so visible.

His eyes drifted down to the tails of the scarf, just brushing her waist, then further down to the curve of her hips. “No.”

Her wrinkling of her forehead was exasperated. His smile was one of placid self-assurance.

“Do not worry, Kate.” He didn't embrace her, but as she leaned on the wall just inside the hatch he touched the back of his hand to hers. “Do you trust me?”

She smiled, and adjusted the strap of her ever-faithful hiking backpack. She'd remain forever grateful Solar thought to bring it when he'd rescued her from certain death in that canyon. “You know I do.”

“Akso!”

From outside the ship came the called-out word, unfamiliar to her and lilting up on the second syllable. Solar started at the interruption, mandibles contracting in confusion – but then a flicker of recognition passed across his face. He gave a self-deprecating shake of his head.

“That is not a nickname I have heard in over a century,” he said loudly, so his reply carried, and before Kate could poke her head out to see who he was talking to another yautja strode into view.

 " _S'yuit-de!"_  The yautja's playful smirk belied the phrase that sounded surprisingly akin to 'son of a bitch.' Vulgarity aside, his tone was warm, and Solar's mandibles flexed into a smile as the pair clapped each other on the shoulders.

“Is that how you greet a _hswe-chiva_ after so long?” Solar reprimanded with an amused chuff. Kate was distantly familiar with the term: it referred to a fellow initiate on the blooding trial and preceding preparatory training. _Chiva_ brother.

“What better way is there?” The taller male was patterned with bold mahogany pluming over cream, his crest spiked like a horned lizard's and tress tips brushed red. His striking appearance might have been intimidating had he not emanated laid-back jocularity.

“Even if I had not recognized you, Luar, I would know you by your lack of subtlety,” Solar said wryly. “I believe it rudely awakened me in those barracks more times than not.”

“Ah, has your time away from the homeworld made you too sophisticated for my ways? But never mind that, I see you too have been lured to this dustball by the _koekt_ migration. A happy coincidence that we are here at the same time – ”

It was then that the yautja's eyes skipped past Solar to the open hatch, and landed on Kate. She took a deep breath.

“Is this your ship?” Luar questioned, his deep voice a degree more restrained than before. A redundant thing to say, as he had just seen Solar come down its ramp. He was not asking about the ship.

“It is.” Solar didn't follow Luar's eyeline, but she could tell by the stillness in his carriage that he was keenly aware of what his old friend had spotted. And it was Solar broke the heavy pause, speaking to him in an brief undertone Kate couldn't quite hear. She could only assume he was explaining the agreed-upon story, which was essentially the truth about their meeting but with the personal nature of their relationship omitted.

Luar thought about it for what felt like an eternity, before rocking back on his heels a little and crossing his arms.

“Turning to so small a being for aid? That is unorthodox, brother.” His manner was not so jovial as it had been, but his eyes – gold like Solar's – held no ill-will, rather, merely curiosity. And maybe, if Kate was interpreting it right, a gleam of humor. “I had heard clanship life hones even the sharpest skills, but seeing as you now rely on a _ooman's_ assistance, I must have been misinformed.”

“Perhaps,” Solar opined, “Once _you_ manage to be sent on emergency missions to Terra, and gain actual experience in the subject at hand, we can revisit this topic.”

They sized each other up for another long moment before the red yautja barked out a laugh, and Solar smiled again, and with the ribbing the momentary tension dissolved.

“Have you a hunting party already?” Luar questioned, to which Solar shook his head.

“I traveled with others, but it is only my cousin and myself – ”

“Then you must combine with my mate and I, if it is amenable to you!”

Between the landing pad and the _sitama's_ front entry was a courtyard of hard-packed earth, and waiting there for Luar as he and Solar made arrangements was a crimson-eyed yautja, patterned with ash gray. It was difficult to tell through the substantial armor, but upon second glance Kate suspected it was female. For females, hunting was a matter of preference rather than honor as it was for males. Judging from her heavy double breastplates to her well-used gauntlets, and the copious pieces of bone jewelry clicking from neck and waist as Luar returned to her and they turned to the building, it was very much her preference.

Without waiting, Solar made to follow suit. Anxiety pecking at her, Kate came down the ramp and trailed after him, but he cast a backward glance and stopped to let her close the gap. “Walk with me.”

Kate tried not to peer around like a bumpkin as she kept pace beside him into the _sitama_. While functional in style, and frankly not unlike a prison block in structure, the space was warmly illuminated by round skylights in the high, domed ceilings. On the second level mezzanine a pair of masked yautja loomed like cathedral gargoyles, conversation coming to a standstill as they swiveled their heads in unison to stare at her.

Aware she was also attracting interest from the half dozen others in the anteroom, she schooled her face into careful neutrality and avoided the impulse to sidle closer to Solar for reassurance. While yautja weren't standoffish about physical contact, there was a time and a place, and being human changed all the unwritten rules anyway. She'd grown used to maintaining a platonic distance from him when in common spaces aboard the clanship, and restraining any undue shows of emotion – and though those yautja had grown accustomed to her presence, and the occasional _ooman_ quirk, now she'd have to hold herself to a higher standard.

On the wall over the utilitarian staircase to the second floor was a line of formally written yautja, and though she struggled with the glyphs at the best of times, these were nigh incomprehensible. She could only make out Solar's clan name, Taitava. She nudged him with her elbow and indicated with her chin in silent question.

“It is an old saying,” Solar said. “From a dialect long out of use. The words have no meaning anymore save for this context. _Chalana tich'uru tai'tava-kiele._ 'With soft footsteps and a strong hand.'”

“Words to live by?” The stairs were narrow and she had to fall single file behind him as he went up.

His tress swung as he turned to answer over his shoulder. “Something of a clan proverb.”

When they reached the landing he headed for an open doorway at the end of the walkway, but turned, gesturing for her not to follow.

“I must register our arrival with the steward. We are going to hunt very shortly, while the temperatures are still cool.”

This was cool?

On the main floor below there were two long, scarred tables and hanging racks on the wall, presumably for treating kills. A short yautja was using a whirring tool to polish a collection of delicate bones until they shone. Kate hadn't cared for the idea of hunting even on Earth – she supposed that made her a hypocrite, since she ate meat, but the concept of finding joy in ending another creature's life was a still an unpleasant one to stomach. She tried, but as she watched the yautja lovingly examine a glistening vertebra, she wondered if maybe she would never truly accept it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

While many very aged yautja, upon reaching the end of their lives, elected to go on one last hunt from which they would not come back, others transitioned to honorable retirement. The _sitama_ steward was one such as these, a lanky elder with a gray merled tress and and a body scarred with evidence of a life well-lived.

As Solar punched his ship code into the computer databank he greeted the steward with the appropriate courtesies, then segued into the trickier topic.

“Accompanying me is a _ooman._ ” He paused to allow the steward to weigh that piece of information before continuing, “She will remain here while I am out, and I wish for her to be unharmed when I return.”

The elder appeared disquieted and deeply skeptical but, after such a long hesitation Solar wondered if he would reply at all, he out a gust of air and nodded.

“My thanks, honored elder.” As he took in the small hexagonal room with its maps and screens and scattered equipment, an idea occurred to him, and he added, “And, if I may, I would have you do me another favor.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

While Solar was with the steward T'kicta reappeared, armor dusty and bio-mask hanging on his utility belt at the small of his back. The others had gone outside again, and as Kate could only see bits and pieces of the goings-on in the courtyard, curiosity overcame her – she descended the stairs and quietly moved outside, observing the scene from a distance, as if viewing a film she was not part of.

Across the courtyard T'kicta had sidled up to the ash-gray female. Her eyes were slanted with indulgent and dispassionate amusement as he stood with his feet planted and arms crossed over his chest, relaying some story or joke or compliment with breezy enthusiasm. He was perhaps not as suave as he thought he was, but his cocky effervescence had its own charm, though whether it was working on the female had yet to be determined.

At that moment Luar approached, adjusting something on a bio-mask's faceplate. He paused next to Kate, glancing with mild interest between the mask's grill-like muzzle and the unfolding attempted romancing.

“He is just very friendly,” Kate offered, not wanting trouble – though yautja weren't usually monogamous, so maybe she was concerned for nothing. As if in confirmation of her thought process Luar only laughed, unfazed.

“Is your cousin always so _thwei-a r'kanta_?” he said over his shoulder, just as Solar came out of the building. The latter looked to see what Luar was referring to, then restrained a sigh. He'd used that very phrase – _thwei-a r'kanta,_ fire-blooded – to describe T'kicta when he and Kate first met.

“In truth, I would be unsurprised if he exited the womb and began flirting with the midwife. Shall I go spare your companion?”

Luar chuckled. “If he pesters Dek'ka too much, he is the one who will need sparing!”

It was then that Kate noticed a piece of equipment on Solar's back she had not seen him with before. “What is that?”

“I thought you might recognize it.” He reached behind for it, holding it out before him on both palms. “I believe it has Terran origins, but that was many generations ago, and we have made our own improvements.”

It was unmistakably a bow. The recurve lines of it were dramatic, the gleaming materials unknown to her, but it was clear in purpose and design. On one hip he wore a narrow quiver with sleek metal arrows, secured to him via both his belt and a thigh strap. Following her gaze, he pulled one out to show her. The arrow's metal tip was barbed, like a combistick spear in miniature, and when he replaced it it snapped back against the quiver's side, evidently magnetically equipped to prevent them falling out.

It was a far cry from the plasmacaster, and as if reading her thoughts on her face, he explained, “The _koekt_ is worthy prey, but does not prove a strenuous challenge, and to come fully equipped would not be sporting.”

“Or fun,” she supplied for him, holding back a smile.

His eyes creased. “Or fun.”

Kate might've liked to send him off with a hug – she was fond of hugging him, regardless of situation – but even if scent hadn't been an issue, a public display of physical affection was inappropriate now. She could tell by the slight lean of his body toward her that he shared her inclination. But despite their maintained distance the set of his face was warm and soft, and that was enough, and as she watched him go her heart felt the same.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When the party of four set out the mood was light. They maintained no particular formation, each moving at his own pace, but maintained a sightline so as to be at the ready when the hunt truly began. The terrain grew craggier the further they ventured from the _sitama_ , gentle hills giving way to fissures and ridges and dry stream beds, and a heavy stillness reigned as if the air itself anticipated the thrill of their pursuit.

“Do you really keep company with a _ooman?_ ” Dek'ka queried Solar through the bio-mask communications frequency. The sturdy female moved nimbly across the terrain, mounting high rocks to look ahead and then waiting for Luar to catch up.

“I do.”

“What for?”

Solar made a noncommittal sound as he tied back his tress to ensure easy access to his bow. “Upon further examination, select members of that race can prove to have useful traits.”

She reacted only with a dubious grunt, and the frequency fell silent.

The atmosphere sharpened they drew nearer the target area, T'kicta indicating so with hand signals. _Koekt_ had extraordinary hearing. They had agreed on a strategy when they first left the _sitama_ and now in sync they fanned out around a rise in the terrain. Bio-masks were switched to preferred vision modes, unhurried strides tightened to measured stalking, and all verbal communication ceased.

Solar stayed close to a large boulder as he came over the swell – and in the gully far below was the _koekt_ herd. Though the species was only of mid-range intelligence they were brawny and wide, reaching to a yautja's shoulders at the withers, distinguished by a shaggy dun pelt and a pair of thick tusks curving out from the lower jaw. Both physical features were desirable trophies, and so care had to be taken to achieve a tidy kill with minimal maiming of the carcass, either by the killing blow or the rest of the panicking herd. _Koekt_ claws were formidable enough to mangle a downed fellow in a stampede – or eviscerate a careless hunter.

As it was uncommon for a worthy prey species to gather in a herd, so an uncommon method was taken to separate out a desirable specimen. They worked in pairs: T'kicta and Luar remained in position at the rear to flush the herd in the desired direction, further along the narrow ravine onto higher ground, while Dek'ka and Solar advanced on opposite sides to prepare for the stampede.

Boulders dotted the ridge and Solar stayed close to the larger ones for cover, placing each footstep on dry grass tussocks when possible to muffle his approach. From below came the shuffle of many sets of _koekt_ paws, interspersed with deep grunts and grumblings. Across the ravine, Dek'ka had less cover than he did and so she moved with even more care, staying low as she crept noiselessly over the barren, stony ground. Both could have activated their cloak, but that would be too simple, too much of an advantage over the beasts below them.

Solar's chosen target was a good-sized male, not the largest he could spot but with a striking dark tuft of fur running down its spine. He reached for an arrow. Slid his first and middle finger down the fletching... but not yet. The beasts were too tightly packed for a clear shot. He waited.

 

 

* * *

 

 

An older yautja, stiffer in movement than any Kate had seen before but still straight-backed, beckoned her up to the second level. The skin between his mandibles was pierced and be-ringed many times over, yellow eyes dimmed in hue but not intelligence, and when his gnarled finger jabbed at a too-tall-for-her stool in the middle of his office, she sat without question.

Without speaking he moved to the computer bank, and as she wondered what she was waiting for a holo plumed up before her. It took her a moment to put together what she was seeing: Solar's live bio-mask feed. The angle was wide, giving her nearly a 180 degree field of view, and as the elder settled into a more comfortable-looking chair with his back to her she leaned forward, staring at the feed in unblinking fascination.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Echoing like a shot through the ravine was a high, clear whoop – T'kicta's call sent an electric jolt en masse through the herd. As intended they began to scramble away from the sound, but they remained in one seething knot, not scattering as expected. The hunters would have to give chase. The exhilaration of it zipped over Solar's skin. Every muscle fiber went on alert, the fine tendons twitching in preparation, and at last exploded into motion as he began to run.

Across the ravine, Dek'ka had already plunged downward toward the ravine's bottom. She darted across the rocky slope with lightning speed, hand readying for one of the numerous weapons bristling about her person. Solar couldn't stop to pay attention, but in his mask's side vision he saw the dark, serrated coil of a whip uncurling and cracking above her head.

Ahead of him appeared a crevice in the ravine wall twice his own body length – to divert around it would cost him time, and possibly his sight of his quarry in the churning mass of bodies.

In one well-placed leap he cleared the gap, cracked earth crunching under his feet as he landed in a crouch to disperse the shock. He steadied himself with a hand to the ground and in doing so broke a few twigs from a stubby, brown-blossomed bush. The pale pollen on his glove was bitter-smelling even through his bio-mask, and though the scent sparked a memory, so concentrated was he on his goal that any superfluous thoughts were discarded as soon as they came.

He launched forward and took off again.

The ravine bent as it started to widen – there was a limited window of time for him to take down his prize, lest it veered off in the opposite direction and be out of his range. Atop the tumble of rock slabs he leaped, zig-zagging from one to another, reaching the highest ones perched precariously on the edge. Balancing astride two boulders with a foot on each to brace himself, he drew his bow from its back harness and nocked an arrow to the string in one fluid motion. Leather-gloved knuckles brushed his jaw as he sighted down the arrow, muscles ticking in his forearms as he drew it taut.

Breathe. Steady. Exhale.

The arrow struck true, just under the _koekt's_ pendulous ear. It bellowed, and lurched into the one next to it, but kept thundering on. The creature was dead, it just didn't know it yet.

Immediately after letting loose Solar had his fingertips ready at his quiver in case he missed, but he let his hand fall now and replaced the bow on his back. His kill would not last more than a few more steps. He had only to wait until it dropped.

With no further need for stealth he descended the steep ravine wall as the last stragglers in the herd streaked past. Through the dust cloud he could see a pair of shapes: a snorting _koekt,_ and T'kicta. As swift as his cousin was, even he could not overtake the herd, and so he'd selected a target from the rear. Solar spotted him just in time to see T'kicta's combistick knocked aside by the _koekt_ 's tossing head, retracting in on itself as it clattered across the rocky ground.

The younger yautja bounced back, hand flashing to his calf, and drew a long dagger from the armor plating. Through his bio-mask he roared, goading the beast, who took the bait and charged. T'kicta danced out of its path at the last moment, turning with the its forward momentum and plunging the blade into the base of its skull. The _koekt_ spasmed, thrashed; T'kicta let go of the lodged-in dagger and was thrown back by the animal's death throes. He tucked himself into a roll just as he hit dirt, popping back up sandy and smudged but intact.

They both observed for several moments as the _koekt_ stumbled away, buckled, and finally fell in a billowing plume of dust. In the distance, the last bleats and scuffles of the herd faded to only echoes off the gully walls.

“That was well done, cousin,” Solar said.

“Yes,” T'kicta replied after he caught his breath. “I thought so myself.” He spun on his heel and rapped Solar's mask between the eyes. “Your _ooman_ is watching, is she not? I have given her a great deal of entertainment.”

Solar shoved his cousin off. “Your arrogance will undo you one day,” he admonished, though his warning was completely lacking in severity.

T'kicta strolled away to retrieve his combistick. “But not this day.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The kills were field dressed on site. Luar and Dek'ka worked in perfect complement to strip and clean their prize in record time, while T'kicta had to be creative with his skinning to mask the ragged knife wound.

Solar cut away his own _koekt's_ hide, then rolled it and secured it in a net sack to be tanned later, aiming his attention on the head. With the appropriate tools from his kit he peeled away flesh, cleansing and sterilizing the broad skull to immaculate white. The baking sun – now directly above and beating down at full strength – would dry it further.

The temperature was hotter than was comfortable but not exceptionally so, according to the atmospheric measurements on his computer gauntlet... yet his skin felt unhappy with the dry air, his eyes overstimulated by the stark light even though the bio-mask, and as the exhilaration of success settled he was left feeling inexplicably tense and twitchy.

It was clear he was alone in this state, however, and he mentally set it aside as he strapped the weighty trophy to his back for the return trek to the _sitama_.

Now free of the single-minded focus of the hunt, his mind expanded back to its normal channels. Something was nagging at him, something he'd set aside. His armor's straps were too constricting, even though he knew the fit was flawless, his palms prickly and hot beneath the leather of his gloves –

He paused in his stride for a heartbeat or two as the earlier memory clicked back into place.

 _Paj-te-denda._ Pollen heat.

He raised his right hand, the one he had used to balance when he cleared the crevasse. The acrid scent was all but dissipated, but his own physical signs were unmistakable now that he recognized them. The _i'ytah_ plant was native to Yautja Prime, which was why he hadn't thought of it straight away; pollen must have been brought by accident on another hunter's feet. The otherwise unremarkable bush grew in sparse woodland, flowering only once every span or two. He'd been caught in the full brunt of this flowering one time before, on a brief stopover on the homeworld, and he'd had the good fortune to escape the planet altogether before he was compelled to do anything... rash.

Because that's what the _i'ytah_ did. Compelled you. In the most carnal and primal way. Flung its fine-grained, absurdly potent pollen into the air to affect the approximately 40% of the population susceptible to it. Yautja didn't have collective breeding seasons like some species but if they did, it would be _paj-te-denda._ Some adventurous souls even collected the pollen to utilize as a stimulant but owing to its unpredictable nature, such attempts often went awry.

Solar took a steadying breath. His gut had about turned over inside him at his belated identification of the plant but he rallied himself. The air was hot but nearly scentless, owing to the scant flora on this moon, and that clean absence of smell was what he focused on.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You didn't tell me you arranged for the steward to let me watch,” Kate said. From the shade of a scruffy tree she'd seen the hunters returning on the horizon and resisted the urge to go out to meet Solar, deciding it might not be proper. Instead she waited, perched on a rock slab, for him to come to her.

Now, his bio-mask hid his expression, but he cocked his head a little. “I hope it was to your liking.”

The violence and butchery at the end had not been, but she didn't have to say so. She hadn't seen yautja hunt in a group before, like a finely honed pack of wolves. And experiencing it through Solar's eyes – the ground eaten up under his long strides, the instinctive coordination between him and the others, his deft hands on his weaponry and the corded strength in his limbs –

“It was,” she replied, with an angled smile.

Instead of going inside the building he went straight to the ship to store the big skull. Kate followed alongside and watched from the open hatchway as he strapped it snugly into a compartment for just this purpose.

“Do you often hunt like that?” she asked. “With a bow?”

He made a negatory noise, giving a strap a vehement tug to be sure the skull would not budge during travel. Though she couldn't see his face there was an odd stiffness to his body language, and she wondered if he'd been hurt. The steward had closed the feed halfway through the carcass dressing – did something happen between that and his return to the _sitama?_

“I am glad you were unharmed,” she continued, phrasing it so it couldn't be seen as a questioning of his skill. “Those animals were quite large, and so I'm sure injuries are understandably common – ”

“They are not.” Though Solar was not a chatterbox, neither was he curt, but now the muffled voice behind his mask sounded borderline surly.

He closed and latched the compartment door and rose, head tilting down as he did to focus on her. The bio-mask's emotionless stare had long since stopped being unsettling to her, but the rigidity in his posture and the hard, dark planes of his mask in the ship's dim lighting were intimidating all over again.

She had to break the heavy silence. “Are you ready to go back, or...?”

He startled a little, as if her question had startled him out of some stupor. “I am.”

And he swept out of the ship like a prince, leaving her to hurry, uncertain, behind him before he could shut the hatch on her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Solar had no appetite, but that was just as well since T'kicta could eat enough for both of them. In remote _sitamas_ like this one it was customary to bring your own food, and though the first level was equipped with a basic eating area, Solar had surrendered his meal to the hands of his cousin and escaped into the cool night air.

He was not accustomed to fleeing. But he could not bear sitting next to Kate for another moment.

If he had a yautja mate, he would have taken her upstairs to a sleeping room and satisfied himself until she could no longer stand – but he did not, and so he could not. Most of those present he did not know or trust, and thus was unwilling to risk sex scents for all to detect.

Though the planet they orbited was on the other side of the moon, this was one of many, and the others gleamed like dewdrops in the indigo sky. He would hunt again tomorrow: he wanted a second pelt, so he could construct a cloak and mantle for those frigid worlds where even thermal netting would not suffice.

When Kate came out some time later he was sitting on the edge of the landing platform, whittling a stick into a crude spear like he had done as a pup, just for something to do. She was afraid of him; he could tell. No, not afraid, but apprehensive. She sensed something different in his demeanor. Her instincts were correct.

“Are you going to use that on a _koekt?_ ” she asked.

“I might.” It was not the worst idea. The stick had a good heft and it would increase the difficulty of the hunt considerably.

The moonlight cast Kate's hair in silver, her skin taking on a blueish hue. It was a rather mesmerizing effect, and Solar didn't realize he was staring until she awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other. He had not removed his bio-mask, and so to alleviate her discomfort he did so now, setting it face up on the platform beside him.

“T'kicta and Luar are getting along,” she ventured. “When I left they were arm-wrestling.”

That did not surprise Solar. He nodded vaguely.

“I'm kind of tired, but I don't know which room we're supposed to be in.” Her smile was a bit lopsided. That tended to mean she was feeling self-deprecating.

 _Ask the steward, ask anyone other than me,_ he almost said. But he stood, abandoning the stick. Her eyes on him were curious, and as they walked together to the building it was clear she wanted to speak, or take his arm, but she refrained – due to the concern about mingled scents, or because his shift in mood had her tentative, he was unsure. But regardless, he was grateful for it. Her touch would have been unbearable. Even now he tracked the side-to-side motion of her hips in his peripheral vision, her slim fingers pushing back hair that slipped forward, and it inflamed him more than actual fire might have.

The accommodations were old-fashioned, with hammocks and communal washrooms and windows with no panes. Each room was quite narrow, with two rows of hooks opposite each other, so as to configure many hammocks side by side if necessary. It wasn't, so the room was solely theirs, and he snapped open the netting and hung it with more force than was required. What he wouldn't have given for a modern bed, with cushions and furs and Kate's soft body –

“Solar, are you alright?” Her voice sounded unusually timid in a way it hadn't in a long time, as if she was worried about offending him. He did not wish to look at her, but she was near the door and so he must.

“Yes,” he responded at last, turning in place. Kate was doing nothing but standing calmly, holding the top handle of her “back pack,” as she called it – when had she picked it up? He hadn't even noticed, his mind was fuzzy – and yet as if she'd been sashaying fully nude he drank in the curves and contours that made up her compact form. That scarf she'd made herself had been transferred from her head to her body, wrapped and tucked in above her breasts, and unfairly shielded her from his eyes.

As if of its own accord his hand lifted to tug the end of the scarf free. It unribboned around her and fell in a gauzy pool at her feet, and parallel lines of bemusement bracketed her mouth. There was still her usual clothing barring him from her, of course, a maddening impediment to the near-painful need to press himself on her bare skin.

“Yes,” Solar said again, though she hadn't repeated her question. “I am... alright.”

She compressed her lips, eyeing him as if sensing he had more to say. Honesty was a virtue, but succumbing to weakness was not, and even admitting to his current predicament would be giving it power.

Her lips parted to speak, and even that subtle movement was a torment; then his hands were on her suddenly, pushing her against the stone wall, and with nary a sound she inhaled, her own hands flying up between them and spreading on his abdomen like little blossoming flowers.

Where was his rationality? To where had his senses flown? His prick pulsed in its sheath, drawing his hips forward to her. He was keenly conscious of how little she weighed, how slight her shoulders were in his grip, and how effortlessly he could lift her and push her skirt aside and –

With an abrupt hiss he slammed his fist on the wall beside Kate's head. She jumped, the dawning affection in her expression dropping into alarm.

“Forgive me,” he intoned, his voice sounding not his own. “I am not myself.”

“Why not?”

He focused on the patch of wall above her head, so as to avoid her large and luminous gaze. “Today I came in contact with... a certain plant, that elicits a physical and chemical reaction – ”

Even a clinical description would be somehow obscene. He risked a glance down at her. Her brow puckered as she processed, her apprehensive tongue poking at her lower lip. All his attention trained on that glimpse of wet pink until her reply jerked him from his trance.

“Are you poisoned? Do you need medical help?”

Solar shook his head and pushed off from the wall, inhaling deeply – but this proved to be a mistake, for what he got was a mouthful of her natural scent, tantalizing and airy and exquisite on his olfactory receptors. He shuddered, tress slipping over his shoulders, and turned away.

“I will sleep in this room with you for your safety, but I will stay away for a while longer. Do not come after me. Do you understand?”

To question was her nature, yet she said nothing. She remained still, but even without looking at her he could see her hesitant nod. “Okay.”

His blood sang in his skull and all but made him see spots. It took everything to walk away with his composure intact.

 

 

* * *

 

 

For Kate sleep did not come readily. Should she be concerned about Solar? He'd know best how to handle this plant's side effects, but she'd never seen him quite like that before – fidgety, agitated, all but tripping over his words. Physically he seemed well, but if this had been Earth and he were a human man she'd have guessed he was high. The raucous voices coming from the lower level weren't conducive to slumber, either, but before long it began to blur into the background and the next thing she knew she was awakened by a thin ray of sunlight beaming onto her face.

The only evidence of Solar's presence was an empty hammock hung on the opposite side of the room. She was not an especially deep sleeper, but he could move very quietly when he wanted to.

Judging from the angle of the sun, it had been up for some time. It was rare that her own internal clock aligned with the day cycle of any given planet. When she extricated herself from the netted hammock and stood on tiptoe to peer out the window slot she could see a pair of yautja she didn't know in the courtyard, comparing maps on their computer gauntlets, but none she did. The dry air made her eyes gritty and her sandpaper tongue demanded water, so she tied her sandals and exited down the stairs to the fountain. Yautja facial anatomy meant they didn't drink straight from the springing arc of water, but she could, so she ignored the communal drinking vessel with its funnel-like mouth and drank as she would from any public fountain on Earth.

“No civility,” she thought she heard someone remark, as a group passed behind her. She could point out that some might find a shared drinking jug uncivilized, but instead decided to consider herself fortunate no more had been said.

Once her path to the landing platform was clear of any lingering yautja she went to seek out breakfast from the ship's storage. What she did not expect was Solar's cousin, sitting cross-legged at the top of the ramp with a med-kit beside him. Instead of inquiring about the obvious, Kate said, “You are not hunting with the others?”

T'kicta huffed out a resentful snort, and shrugged to indicate his left arm, extended and resting on his knee. “It is broken.”

She knew better than to express any sympathy. “Didn't you break your arm a while ago?” That was before she'd officially met him – she remembered because of the brace he'd worn, a honeycomb-like lattice of rigid material that had stood out to her due to its novelty.

“That was the other one. My wrist.” The relentless sun was right behind her and he squinted, top mandibles creeping up in a smile that was equal parts complacent and innocuous. “Your memory may not be quite correct but I am pleased I feature in it nonetheless.”

She rolled her eyes – not for his benefit, as she'd learned by now that the expression didn't translate – and walked past him to the compartment that held the rations.

“T'kicta,” she said offhandedly, rummaging through the food canisters, “Do you know what a _i'ytah_ plant is?”

From behind her she heard his chirrup of surprise, followed by a throaty laugh. “You wish to converse with me about _i'ytah?_ ”

Hoping she was reading the label right, she selected a container of dried tubers and fruits, but pretended to keep browsing. “I'm simply curious. It's something I overheard.”

“Who has been talking about _i'ytah –_ ” Abruptly T'kicta's voice cut out, and with a sense of unease Kate at last turned. He was gazing out across the hills, eyes flicking and narrowing as he fit the pieces together in his head – all at once he slapped his thigh and, with enough volume to make her flinch, let out a howl of mirth.

“ _I'ytah!_ That's it.” A tool from the med-kit went skittering down the ramp as he spun around on his rear, grinning at her. “But from where did he get it? And why? That seems unlike him!”

“I don't know what you mean – ”

“Come now,” he chortled. “It all makes sense. I hesitate to shame him by saying so but he was doing very poorly this morning. I have taken two more _koekt,_ while up until the time I was injured he had felled none. My pelts are in that compartment there, if you wish to view them,” he added with unconvincing modesty.

“This plant,” Kate redirected, “What _is_ it? He said he came upon it by accident and was suffering side effects. He seems... altered.”

T'kicta pondered.

“It grows on Yautja Prime,” he explained. “And here also, it would seem. Its pollen elicits extreme sexual response and desire.”

Oh. Huh. Solar hadn't told her that part.

“The plants do not flower often,” he continued amiably, “But when they do, it is all at once, and... ” He trailed off, and waggled both his head and his uninjured hand, as if to imply total chaos.

“How long does it last?”

T'kicta just gave her a long look. “A while.”

It wasn't hard to figure out, without having to ask, what could be done to alleviate it. Due to Solar's concerns about sex scents, though, that something was off the table.

T'kicta popped to his feet to retrieve the fallen tool. He shot her an amused sidelong glance but it seemed even he had some tact buried between the vanity and exuberance, and said nothing more.

The subtlest of breezes picked up and so Kate sat in the pilot's seat as she ate, looking out through the front window at the fluttering grasses and honey-butter horizon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

In his entire two hundred and fifteen spans of life, Solar had never been so hot. Which was not a conclusion he came to lightly, considering some of the blistering planets he'd been to. And even through his distracted haze, he knew very well it was no fault of the climate.

Crouched motionless atop a massive boulder he wished now for his plasmacaster, or a burner of any kind, to obliterate something to a pulp from this spot. Very un-sporting. Luar and Dek'ka were somewhere nearby, having split off from him some time ago to pursue their own targets, and although he liked their company he was glad for the respite. He had begun to struggle to form coherent sentences.

A _koekt_ had gotten separated from the herd and came barreling past – so absorbed was he in his thoughts that Solar did not notice until it was directly in front of him. Without thinking he whipped his combistick from his back to hurl it at the fleeing beast and it telescoped open in midair, striking it at an amateurish angle on the hindquarters. It was not the clean strike Solar would have preferred but it was enough to cripple it, giving him time to draw his bow and bring it dead to the ground.

His hands were not steady enough to dress the kill. He made them into fists instead and growled his frustration.

He would not allow this day to be wasted. He would drag the thing back whole if it he had to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sunset was a wash of gilded ochre, the heaps of boulders casting rolling shadows on the ground. Desolate the planet may be, but no human had stepped foot on it before, and Kate found much to interest her. She whiled away the better part of the afternoon watching a pack of alien rodents with squashy faces, floppy ears, and feet like saucers darting in and around the rocks, apparently constructing a nest within, carrying dry sticks and flowers gone to seed into the cracks.

She had gone inside the _sitama_ for a drink and was debating whether not it was dinnertime when through a narrow window there came an odd silhouette in the distance: and she realized it was Solar, burdened with a _koekt_ on his back. It was obviously a punishing weight and when he entered the building he deposited it with a grunt on a table, tearing off his bio-mask and discarding it with uncharacteristic carelessness next to the carcass.

Kate didn't want to make it worse, whatever _it_ was, precisely. The side exit was so close... but when he saw her trying to slink out his posture went on alert. She stopped dead.

Solar was normally calm, thoughtful, intense though not quick to rush into action – but now he exuded crackling energy, hungry eyes flashing with an uncontrolled and unfamiliar wildness. She felt pinned by his hawk-like stare alone as he took stock of her, chest rising and falling, tension etched into every line of his body and his prize completely forgotten.

Kate wasn't sure why she ran. It was more of a brisk walk, really – a casual escape out the side door, trying to pretend she wasn't doing what she was doing, which was fleeing. It was not fear that spurred her but the knowledge that he was right to keep themselves free of sex scent, the awareness that strangers were observing, and the suspicion if she didn't move he might mow her down like a train in front of everybody.

Her sandals slapped the hard-packed earth as she wove around rocks and a patch of scraggly bushes. Maybe she would find a high vantage point to watch the sunset some more. That would be nice. Let him take his aggression out on carving up that _koekt –_

A solid wall of muscle slammed her to the ground belly first. The wind was knocked out of her, chin smacking the compacted dirt, and on instinct she flailed. She'd never even heard his footsteps. God, he was heavy – she pushed hair from her face, trying to to rotate beneath him, and for her efforts she received a hand to her spine, saying without saying anything at all, _be still._

“Solar, you're squashing me – ”

She shivered violently as he covered her, adrenaline licking at her insides as his mandibles grazed her neck. As if he could absorb her through his palms his hands were everywhere, rough as he shoved up her skirt and covetous on her bare thighs.

A tall tumble of boulders blocked the view from the _sitama_ but still self-consciousness reared its head. “Someone... might see us. What if they hear?”

Two claws dragged over her mouth. When he spoke, his mutter was gravelly and breathless and near unrecognizable. “Then be silent, _taana_.”

Already the blunt head of his cock was pressing against her entrance and before she could process he breached her in one swift stroke. At the burst of sharp-edged pleasure a cry escaped her, and on reflex to stifle herself she bit down between his thumb and forefinger. Solar hissed, grinding his hips in until he hit bottom. Without pausing he rocked back, a beautiful burn that wrenched a ragged gasp from her. His arms were a cage, his hands bruising, sliding down her waist to pin her steady against his thrusts.

This was not sex. This was fucking. Mating. Dirty, and primitive, face-down in the hot dirt and the dust with pebbles pressing into her belly. His breathing was a bass vibration through her, and when his tusks pressed harder into the yielding flesh where neck met shoulder she flinched at the flicker of discomfort. Anticipation and primordial craving all in one robbed her of breath.

When his mandibles closed on her she choked, her nails digging into the dirt. He didn't pierce flesh, only anchoring her as he resumed his pace, his thrusts tight and powerful. Pain and ecstasy layered, the former below the latter, as if merely a whetstone for the knife of her pleasure. She whimpered, vaguely suspecting he might have broken skin at last - no, she was sure of it - but regardless through his mouth-grip came faint fragments of a purr.

As if drugged by desire she remained still as he pounded into her. Her breaths were only shallow little pants, and though each thrust wrung a whine from her she grit her teeth lest she draw attention from the _sitama_. Her orgasm was rising and she squirmed up into him, frantic for relief, but the needy movement earned her his forearm on her shoulder blades, rendering her utterly immobile. The thick ridges on his cock throbbed inside her, giving her no quarter, and almost before she could anticipate it she climaxed, her body clenching around him, pleasure crushing her and tumbling her over and over.

At her cue Solar roared, pumping and spilling inside her, buried to the hilt. His release forced fresh rippling waves of heat through her and she raked the ground with her nails, managing only the weakest moan. Only slowly did she come back to reality, conscious of the distant creak of evening insects, of her slick inner thighs and the grains of sand on her lips.

Solar's breath was warm on her nape as he rested his forehead on the curve of her skull. His body felt different now, somehow loosened, lighter. It wasn't long before his weight lifted off her, and she pushed up on shaky arms to finally meet his gaze. His delirium was dissipating, his fierce features morphing into a more familiar alignment. He huffed, shaking his head as if shooing off an insect, and his eyes shut for a moment then refocused on her. He was still riled up – breathing uneven, mandibles shifting – but the bulk of his aggression was fading now.

“Feel better?” she rasped.

His brow furrowed, as if searching for an actual answer. “Yes,” he replied at last, hoarse and half-surprised. He looked as if he'd just awakened from a dream. He reached out and swiped at her bottom lip, his thumb coming away with a smear of red. He blinked at it, then swept his eyes over her. “Have I harmed you?”

She ran her tongue over her lip – she hadn't realized it had split. “No.”

He sat back on his heels. The way he regarded her told her he was trying to decide whether or not he should be remorseful. His gaze traveled down to the punctures on her neck, aching now that the rush was fading. “And you would tell me if I had?”

“Yes.”

He thought about that, then reached out again, this time tracing the curve of her cheek with one knuckle. “I do not care for heavy intoxicants,” he remarked, sounding put out. “I do not like feeling I am not in control of myself.”

“I understand.” Her smile was tentative, but sly. “But I didn't mind.”

His head bent sideways owlishly. The remaining sliver of sun made a halo behind him, and it seemed for a ridiculous moment that the golden light shone into him to glow out again through his eyes. “Sleep with me in the ship tonight.”

“You think that's safest,” she acknowledged. “Because of the scent.”

Solar rose in one graceful motion, rolled his neck, and extended his hand.

“Because I am not finished with you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning the ship departed before the sun even peeked above the rugged hills. Whether the three other yautja they'd originally set out with all had either a subpar sense of smell, a healthy grasp of discretion, an unwillingness to antagonize the senior warrior aboard (who also happened to be the pilot responsible for their safe return to the clanship,) or some combination thereof, Kate couldn't say. But she wasn't about to question her luck.

T'kicta had apparently gotten nowhere he wanted to be with Dek'ka and so abandoned all efforts in that department, bidding her and Luar farewell in the courtyard in a reasonably respectful manner (although he and Luar's last exchange, too distant for Kate to hear, left them both in a gale of uproarious staccato laughter.) Now he hung onto the ship's ceiling bar with both hands - his forearm in one of the lattice casts - gazing contentedly out the little side viewport as the rolling terrain smoothed with distance and blurred as they cut through the atmosphere.

The moon had been harsh, and hot, but the air was clean and the land unsullied and free. No fences, no destruction. For all the yautja philosophies she might never truly understand, they had not fallen into the conquering and colonizing mindset that so plagued earth cultures. Wild places were not to be tamed – glory was to be found within them, but only as they were.

“Tell me what you are thinking,” prompted Solar from the pilot's seat, in English, so their conversation would remain private.

“I'm thinking that I'm sore all over,” she responded in kind, and he swung his head sharply. He had the decency to look abashed, but that transformed into satisfaction when he saw the humor in her expression. He let out a breath and continued directing the craft's course for the clanship, which was orbiting the Neptune-like gas giant this moon in turn orbited around. The teal planet was massive, but from this distance, Kate could obscure it with two fingertips. Perhaps one day this would all become commonplace, but somehow, she knew that day was very, very far off. 

Solar glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “What are you really thinking of?”

She resisted the urge to toy with a tendril of his tress. That could come later. “Only good things.”

 

 

* * *

 

 


End file.
